


Levitating

by MagusLannister



Series: Hallucinate [1]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Angst, Communication Failure, Developing Relationship, Dorks in Love, Drug Dealing, Dubious Morality, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, Gangsters, Guns, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Original Character(s), Peaky Blinders References, Period-Typical Sexism, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Problems, Prostitution, Season/Series 01, Sexual Tension, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:47:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25064158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagusLannister/pseuds/MagusLannister
Summary: Tommy have plans for the future of his familyRosalyn just try to escape from her sorrow and fate trying to find what her really want
Relationships: Esme Shelby/John Shelby, Tommy Shelby/Original Character(s), Tommy Shelby/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Hallucinate [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1815256
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! this is the first very part of this series inspired for very traumatics character as Tommy and the resto fo the Peaky Blinders!

Thomas Shelby had a list of things to do once the Great War was over; a meticulously crafted and designed list regarding his personal and family life decisions but most of all about the changes he had in mind for the Peaky Blinders plans that kept him awake in his bunk in the trenches or alive in the French mud while digging tunnels . Like everything Tommy planned and did, he was somewhat obsessed with his planning and progress. 

The last thing Tommy expected on the cool autumn morning at the London train station, as he waited for the train that would take him and his brothers back to Brimingham, was to meet a woman who would impress him. 

On his way to cigarettes bought at a stall candy on one side of the ticket office, Tommy found an excuse to get away from his brothers and other Blinders, felt dizzy from the high voices and stories of war, just he was not willing to talk about what happened in France? 

He felt in a way that the person who was returning to his home was not him just a dangerous version of himself, he knew that Arthur and John noticed the change in him and he in them both, they were strangers with common memories and the traumas that they would not admit from a war that polished the worst things of the three of them. 

That's why when he turned a corner and collided with a smaller figure throwing it to the floor, with the blow the small bag that hung on his shoulder opened pulling an endless number of articles, he was alarmed by the feeling revolving in the pit of his stomach when He knelt down to help the young woman who threw her to the floor to gather her things. 

" Oi no, how sorry! I didn't see it official” the strong and clear American accent crossed his brain. 

"I'm the one who should apologize, ma'am," he answered, gathering the papers and personal items of the young woman, in his work he I take advantage to look at her while she observed the angry red blow on her knee. 

Brilliant red hair delicately combed in a high roll up and with a simple silver comb, undulating locks falling from it, clear and clean skin, round face and red painted lips, modest and roomy black velvet dress _a widow perhaps_ , underneath an elegant wool coat, without gloves with long, fine fingers and painted with red nail varnish picking up both American pennies and shilling. 

"Miss indeed" she answered smiling winking, opening her bag so that he could put her things inside; She was beautiful, high cheekbones and full lips and clear eyes painted with kohl, made him feel accelerated, as if he were a green boy who had never spoken to a pretty and flirtatious girl. 

Amid the deafening sound of the station she turned as if hearing her name. 

“! Hey Marcus here. Wait … Mark!” She jumped up and threw her bag over her shoulder, looking in the direction of some soldiers, _American soldiers_ , a subgroup of green uniforms that distinguished themselves between British units and their families. 

Over her patent leather shoes she was still small and thin in front of him, a small, elegant red-haired woman who made his breath catch and his cock stir in his pants as if he hadn't fucked two whores that morning before going to the station. She approached him and touched his identifier, her perfume hit him like the opium that he smoked last night clear and intoxicating, sweet and comfortable. 

"Thank you, Sergeant," she said, smiling, she took a quick turn and sped off her heels through the station, pushing people away until she came to a blond-haired young man hugging him tightly by the neck. 

Tommy looked at the floor finding that some of her things were still lying around, a small bottle that he believed was carrying perfume, a matchbox and a white handkerchief embroidered in a corner in gold the initials RAH, he brought the perfume bottle to his nose smelling the feminine fragrance, he folded the handkerchief and put it together with the bottle in his breast pocket, filling himself with a new but familiar feeling, etching in his memory the beautiful young woman with long legs and flaming hair. 

Walking back to his brothers, fiddling with the box of matches and the feeling inside him, thick and smoky obsession. 

  
"What the hell did it take you so much Tom?" Arthur claimed once they entered the train car, he threw the box of cigarettes and the matches of the red-haired girl. " Fuck off Arthur" 

* * *

It had taken a week or more to get her out of his head, to convince himself that she was a women who only crossed paths at the train station, who stirred false feelings and longings to fill the void resulting from the war, than a few days of working with the Blinders to restore order and confidence in Small Heath people. 

Visiting Sarah a redhead whore who resides on Adderley Street but was a disappointment in fulfilling his longings, her hair was not the same bright and shrill red led him to decide to push her figure in the deep in his memory, although in dreams produced by opium, he could still visualize it and the perfume bottle was kept in the drawer along with his pipe. 

One Thursday night they decided to go to the Garrison at John's insistence that he kept talking about the new barmaid and he was not in the mood, they had to fix the book, the races of the week, try to get new brokers while organizing the Blinders with the new coppers. 

But he had laughed at John's excitement, exclaiming that the new barmaid had broken Matthew Smith's fingers when he had rubbed her arse. 

"And you asked if it was worth the pain for that arse" Arthur asked smiling 

“Brother, when you see her you will know that it was worth it, come on Tom! John pressed him. 

"Alright Fuckers a glass of whiskey would not be bad" he stopped putting on the cap, Arthur and John smiled as they put on their own caps. 

They entered the Pub, and for a Thursday the place was fairly full. 

"Everyone here on a business day ha! “Arthur hit one of the men he recognized from the factories; sitting down at a table Tommy lit a cigarette, John nudged him. 

"There is she" John whisper and he looked where he was pointing 

He almost dropped the cigar from his lips, walking towards them with an apron on, without the velvet gown and the hair collected in an elegant way he would still recognize her, the shiny red hair stood out against the dark aspect of the Pub. 

"Gentlemen what I serve you" the American accent was clear. 

"Whiskey love" Arthur asked, smiling at her in an attempt to flirt. 

"Three glasses?" she asked neutrally. 

"A bottle" he replied, she looked at him and smiled with the kindness expected from her work. 

“Coming” and she turned around, and Tommy took the opportunity to look at her in the smooth cream skirt and the blouse with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, she still looked dazzling, stretched out at the bar and began to serve drinks, spoke smilingly to the customers and with others talking to them with neutral faces or frowning, but she did not allow herself to be neglected by any of the men. 

Harry approached her while she finished serving the glasses of gin to some men at the bar, she took the bottle of whiskey and looked at them while Harry whispered in her ear looking in his direction, she had the same neutral face as she nodded at whatever to Harry was saying. 

"I hope the wait wasn't too long," she said, setting the glasses down. 

"Waiting for someone so pretty is not a problem" John replied and Tommy wanted to kick him under the table. 

"It is because I am new to England or all men have so much effusiveness for being gallant" although the phrase must have been sweet and flirtatious the drag and poisonous tone was more like a stop, a stop that John returned taking the glass looking away. 

"Harry says it's courtesy of the house," and she turned before any of them response. 

* * *

It took him all weekend and two nights of opium to not go see her again. But on Monday he found herself walking into The Garrison, seeing her ordering boxes and talking to a man who he recognized as Ron who was distributing the whiskey, they brought in smuggling. 

She noticed him, but kept counting the boxes Ron was unloading, each one checking their contents; He took a seat at the bar looking at her, she had a light blue dress today and long hair in a braid that he saw women wear a lot in France. 

"What can I offer to you today" she asked squatting on the bar 

"Rum" he answers, she raised a jump. 

"So early?" She raised an eyebrow, but poured him a glass. “Not even me dare to drink rum at this hour” She smiled at him; pink lips stretched out showing a row of white teeth. 

"What is your name?" She turned from where she was giving him her back, keeping the coins he gave her for the drink, she gave him a flirtatious smile stretching at the bar facing him. 

"Why do you want to know that?" She propped her chin on her hand, tilting her head. 

"Are you a whore?" He approached her, and her fragrance swirled up to him, the same fragrance that was in that little bottle in his drawer. 

"Do I look like a whore to you?" she asked him, flapping her eyelashes, and he could see that she had the greenest eyes he had ever seen, green like those of a cat with arched eyelashes. He felt her response more rumbling in his head and in his pants, the rush of lust rising from his spine. 

He opened his mouth to answer her, but he did not even have an answer other than, _you want to go to the back_ , but she interrupted him, her green gaze hardened and the mellow tone with which she spoke changed to a sharp and angry. 

"Better let me ask you better the question Do I look like a whore that you can afford? If you are not going to come here to ask about things that if you can afford better keep your questions for you, douchebag” She snatch his empty glass of rum. 

He smiled at her and she looked at him with a comical expression of exasperation "I apologize, but if you're not a whore you're in the wrong place" she snorted "Look good advice Mr Shelby, but it's not your damn business, you're going to take something more? ”she asked in the same angry tone she was speaking to 

He took out a cigarette lighting it, but what a fierce woman he thought now agreed with the boys who spoke of her as the woman who broke Smith's fingers, she had the look that she wanted to break his fingers and that fascinated him. 

"Won't you tell me your name then? You have me at a disadvantage love” she snorted with red cheeks and he marvelled, this woman had to measure hardly 5 feet and 7 inches, with her heels on, annoyed and grumbling like nobody did with except his family and that make him feel blank. 

She seemed ready to deny him and send to hell, but the pub door swung open and a woman at her age with straight black hair pushed through, wearing a scandalous silk dress that marked her broad hips and pronounced waist, the very red lipstick made to fix your gaze on it accomplished its purpose, but it was still pretty that she wore red glass sunglasses which was illogical since it was dark outside. 

"Rosie Posie you will never know what happened to me!" The woman walked past him and _Rosie_ growled at her without taking her eyes off him, her tantrum interrupted by the flamboyant woman. 

But the woman seemed to ignore him. How many pretty women moved into Small Heat that he hadn't heard about? 

She was chattering so fast that it was hard for him to understand and even though she wore the same American accent as Rosie's, she sounded less elegant and open, not pronouncing the R of the words, one more pronunciation of _ghetou_ as Polly would say when she corrected his pronunciation so that They will stop talking in a Romani tone on a daily basis. 

But did the redhead have no problem keeping up with the women “So girl, I came to get some weed, do you have a little? Rosie looked at her wrongly, but pulled out a small tin box the size of a makeup holder like Ada and Polly had, the girl took out a weed cigarette and looked at it, eyes dark as coal. 

"Do you have fire, handsome?" she first asked him. 

"Mr. Shelby, if you are looking for a whore, here you have one", someone else must have sounded that phrase with disdain and anger, but Rosie seemed amused offering her friend; the girl made a false surprise sound. 

"Rosie Posie what will Mr. Shelby think of me if you introduce me like this?" The girl smiled seductively at him with deep dimples on her sunken cheeks. 

"You’d asked me to promote you, besides Mr. Shelby seems to be quite interested in a whore even he just ask if I was one" the angry tone returned and he smiled at the girl, who only blushed looking away. 

The black - haired girl laughed " Well handsome, if you give a good fuck to this grumpy little fierce, I will pay you " she said winking eye. 

"Leigh-Anne!" her blush reached her neck and was lost in her dress. Leigh-Anne held out her hand in a polite greeting. 

"Leigh-Anne Morrison and I'm sure my blustered and blushing roomie didn't introduce herself here, don't feel bad she does it this to all the guys" Rosie looked at her with her hands on her hips Sighing, she approached them. 

"Rosalyn Hale" she avoided his gaze holding out his hand 

"Thomas Shelby" she blushed more while Leigh-Anne smoked next to her "Hm I knew a Shelby, isn't its Rosie" she exclaimed releasing the smoke. 

"How do you expect I to know if you don't?" She asked him a silent question, pointing to the glass offering him another round of rum. 

"Yeah I fucked a Shelby when we were in America" Rosie looked at him with an apology expression, turning to her friend "Thar man from Maine?" 

"Yes! That son of bitch! How was his name Alfred ... maybe it was Albert ... no "she kept chattering" I remember now! His name is Arthur!” She growled angrily to the memory. Tommy felt the unpleasant taste in his mouth when he knew he was referring to his good-for-nothing father. 

"That idiot not only fucked me without paying me, he robbed me while I slept" Rosalyn laughed. 

"What, when you have been robbed" Leigh Anne looked at her exasperated "And in Maine Idiot, I remember it so well now, he told me that he was from Ireland... He was a gypsy even he read my hand saying that they were going to rob me that night, but he never mentioned he was the one who going to rob me!” 

Rosalyn was laughing out loud and Tommy would be if he wasn't furious, his father had left them to their own devices to go to North America to fuck young women and rob them, fuck he wanted to beat him up. 

Rosalyn noticed Thomas's white knuckles holding her glass, it was not difficult to see that the Maine man and Thomas had some connection. 

"At least he doesn’t cheat you off" Rosalyn said. 

"But you know that sugarboo had my revenge" 

"Oh my God, what did you do Poppy?" 

"The second time I saw him in Boston, I robbed him and stabbed him." Rosalyn put her hands to her mouth. "Did you kill him?" 

"No fuck of course not, but that motherfucker could not walk in a good time" She said as she placed the bag on her shoulder "It was a pleasure Mr. Shelby and good luck with our Rosie" She smiled leaving 

"Oh God Thomas I apologize for Leigh Anne because she never would" 

"I accept your apology only if you accept an appointment this Friday" she looked at him blushing "Sorry Mr. Shelby, but I will have to deny it I cannot this weekend" 

"You will understand with time, Miss Hale, that I don't take refusals very easily." He left her the money for the drinks and left. 

* * *

"Then He invite you a date and you said no?" 

"Yes" affirm while letting Poppy fix her hair with the rollers. 

"Oh, Rose it wasn't him, the man you saw at the station" she asked her and she nodded. 

Leigh Anne made an exasperated gesture to her "But if you have a fascination with that man and finally find him you refuse him; please tell me why you did not agree to go out with him" she turned with a frustrating gesture and the rollers made noise with the movement 

"Because Poppy, I didn't come here to find a man who only intends to fuck me besides, he won't look or sound like the Sergeant I saw at that train station, with his smug tone and asking if it was a whore who that hell his think he is, however I didn’t come here to find myself not a man ” 

"Oh, my goodness! Don't tell me your speech again. You can screw with a handsome man like everyone expected from any young women who is far of the watchful eye of her family or you really plan to die a virgin! she changed into her bed clothes. 

"Poppy right now I don't need a man to judge me, treat me or behave like Roger or Marcus", she recorded the apartment she shared with Leigh Anne looking for an Athos under the furniture, her friend let out a frustrated sigh " Yeah, whatever he seems like an idiot, a dangerous idiot, but idiot... we can stop talk about him "she got into her side of the bed. 

"Let's talk about something else Sugarboo you already found another place; I found a place near Chinatown and with my savings I can pay about 4 months of rent, and how is this business going, "she said pointing to her own body" I can afford it " 

"Oh Poppy, if you want I can give you the money and you know it and I still here in this place” Leigh Anne shock her head give her a negative “I haven't seen a place yet, but I've already had put the eye on the department on Keeley St and it’s close to the Pub and I will only take a one train to get to the County Courthouse ”She adjusted the sleep mask, Leigh Anne slept with the curtains open and a candle lit, but she could not tolerate sleeping with light. 

"Anyway, sell this apartment and I will be free of Roger for a time, the commissioner's nephew is interested and I can sell for more than one or two thousand pounds and be able to buy that beautiful tub that we saw in that antique shop" she could hear the laugh of Leigh Anne more than she saw, she settled into bed, but she did not fall asleep with the same speed that she managed to get her friend next to her, who was already snoring softly next to her; she thought of Roger her brother, the forgotten letter in her purchase where she ordered him to return home with a few simple and short words and she can heard it in his tangent and frustrated tone as he used to speak to her. 

She did not want to go home and find herself under the yoke of her family, making decisions of her life without considering her opinion or desire; but with her father giving Roger the control of the business and the decisions of the family and that is one thing that she did not agree with, Roger had not been the closest of her brothers or with the best relationship; when she said white Roge said black, for what she was goals and personal development for Roge it was whims and cheap sentimentality. 

She fell asleep angry and obfuscated, dreaming of being in the middle of a storm, with her brother Roger looking at her with contempt from the window of her house in Bronx while she drowned in the rain. 

"Leave me alone Roger" yell at him about the thunder "Let me live my life" 

Roger finally replied to her "You will understand with time Miss Hale that I don't take the negatives very easily" Thomas Shelby's deep voice and British accent pierced the roar of the storm and felt in her brain. 

She felt hyperventilated, but as Roger continued to speak in Thomas Shelby's voice, Marcus appeared out of nowhere in his military uniform, frenzied eyes grabbing her shoulders shaking violently. 

“Rose! We have to go, we are all going to war to fight for our homeland ”Marcus screamed and she felt she was going to start crying like 3 years ago when Charlie in his spotless uniform and looking full of life and jovial joy told her that he and her sibling would go to France to fight in the war. 

She woke up with tears on her face, the sky was still dark outside, she looked at the clock on her nightstand, avoiding making noise or moving too much so as not to wake Leigh Anne, the clock said after 4 in the morning, it was not time She usually woke up to go to court, but preferred to be before going back to sleep. 

* * *

Rosalyn smoothed back her hair with her free hand that was not holding the files, the day had been exhausting, and this weekend she did not promise to have a single moment free, she expected to at least be at home on Sunday night. 

When she turned a corner, she caught a glimpse of Finn Shelby running with his friends in dirty pants and pushing each other with other children "Hey Finn!" The boy turned and gave her a huge smile. 

“Rosie! You have some candies, the ones you gave me last week Aunt Polly forced me to share them with John's children "he pouted, and she rummaged in her bag" Hm, I always have sweets for you sweetheart "she handed him a bag with peanuts candied but before the boy will grab she pulls it away “This weekend I'm going to London, and if someone here shows me his notes from school you can win a strawberry cake” she said questioningly, Finn blushed 

“Me. ... my notes, Katie is using them ... but you can check it when you come back from London "she denied with affection taking her hand walking down Watery Lane towards the house No. 6, Finn seemed defeated away from his friends, but did not try to run away. 

Finn helped her by carrying some folders and talking, she was fond of the boy, he was about the age of Louis, her nephew and she couldn't help but pamper him like she would Louis. 

They arrived at the house and opened the man with a moustache, Thomas's brother "There you are Finn, Poll was looking for you all day" he ruffled Finn's hair and noticed her "Look just the grumpy barmaid" she released a laugh "You're still sober Arthur that's a surprise" 

"At the moment sweetness, but I plan to change that, it is rare to see you without the apron" Arthur give her pass into the house and Finn stepped between the legs of both and Arthur took the bag of candies sticking a handful in his mouth, the boy complained, but in the same way he went up to get his notes, took off her coat and placed it on the back of the chair that Arthur offered her, sitting across from her at the round table in the house. 

"So, what are you doing with Finn" he asked lighting a cigarette 

"I only help him with his studies" 

"Are you a teacher by day and a barmaid by night?" she asked reaching out to grab the bottle of Ron that was on the table, listening to Finn's footsteps going down the stairs. 

"Actually, I'm a procurator in the county courthouse, working for Officer Emmerson's Litigation." Arthur choked on his drink. She laughed nodding as she poured herself a glass as well, Arthur looked at her as if another head had grown "You´re fuckin attorney who the hell are you doing working in a Pub" she grimaced feeling the hot rum in her stomach. 

"Well, my family always had a pub, so I know how to handle it. I took the TQSL and OSCE1 exam a year ago to validate my university degree, but I have been told that I must have experience to allow myself to exercise as an independent ... it is a bullshit." she sighed 

“It was hard to get someone to contract me as an intern when I was in London, I worked for a lawyer who had cases in the Court of Appeal and so I met my current boss who offered me a position, the salary is something” She finished her glass and Arthur looked at her with the same surprised face as when they played poker on their Sunday shift in the Garrison, when there was no one there except him. 

Finn sat next to her, leaving her his notebooks and handing her a pencil. "Let's start with math, shall we?" Finn grimaced, but settled down. An hour had passed since I was teaching Finn multiplication (With Arthur attending to her explanation). 

"Come on Finn it's not that fucking hard" she gave him a bad look at the exasperated tone. 

"Hey! Leave him alone ... Ok Finn darling focus on me "she turned to the boy, but he looked behind them 

" Tommy you're back! " She turned to look at Thomas and John Shelby entering with a group of men behind him and Polly Gray following, Polly smiled at her "Oh! Rosie, dear, how nice to see you; how the courts treat you? "she smiled at her "Horrible Poll as always " 

She did her best to avoid his gaze, while still helping Finn "Very well Finn, I hope you're trying, Rosie makes an effort in your education" Polly said and she only winked at Finn who looked at her blushing. 

"You are a teacher Rosalyn?" Tommy spoke to her, but Arthur replied "No Tom we are in the presence of a fucking attorney" she denied with amusement, closing Finn's notes whispering that on Wednesday she would return for another class. 

Polly offered her tea when she sent Finn to take a bath, but she refused, saying that she should take advantage and rest on her day off preparing to leave, Tommy helping her with her files and telling her that he would accompany her home, she did not refuse even though she wanted to, she felt vulnerable in front of this man who made her insides stir and burn. 

"You shouldn't bother with Finn's study," he said walking next to her with her files under his arm and the other in his pocket. 

"It is not trouble, Thomas" 

"You should not ..." she cut him off "No problem, Finn is my nephew's age, I consider education important and I love your little brother" she smiled at him, but he continued with his obfuscated attitude. 

They continued walking in silence until they reached her building, she stood on a step to be at his height and he looked at her with his icy blue eyes. 

"I wanted to apologize, I was rude to your invitation the other night, but I need to be clear about my intentions that's including you ... I am not looking for a relationship nor am I the kind of woman who has casual sex and if you are looking for one of those two things Thomas, I'm afraid you're going to find disappointment.” She took a breath, feeling her palms sweat for some reason. “I can offer you a friendship and only that.” He didn't answer her as he lit a cigarette. 

"I accepted it, but that won't stop my intentions with you Rosalyn." He reached out and brushed his lips over her cheek. 


	2. Dunno

The weeks passed and she didn't have the opportunity to think too much about Tommy's words, nor about his attitude with her, but she decided not to give it the importance she wanted to give it. 

Her routine seemed to come back to normality with her working at the pub and the court after the two weeks she had been absent when she returned with her brothers to New York for the honorary funeral of her brother Charlie, her fight with her mother and Roger, her decision to return to Birmingham. 

But the ordinary was totally eclipsed by Thomas's constant presence in her life, he had not tried to coquette her so directly, but she noticed his presence in the Pub, when he accompanied her home after staying after dusk, teaching classes to Finn and John's children who had joined to their little uncle. 

It would have been naive not to notice the kind of man Tommy was, nor in the warnings Harry used to give her, the washerwomen, even the whores, looking at her as a kind of helpless prey to a dangerous predator, as people got part away of him or his brothers passed by the dirty street or any man with flat caps with gleaming blades, the women looked fearful and the men made any gesture of respect.  
  
But she did not feel hunted or intimate, made her feel at home. 

Either way, Tommy continued his discreet but constant interest in her and secretly enjoyed it, in the Bronx there were only three classes of men she related to, the men she grew up with from gangs allied to her family, people them worked for her family or the few but conscious men who would not risk his neck by flirting with her. 

She loved working in court, but she would be lying if she didn't say she looked forward to Monday and Wednesday, when the Pub was short on customers and Tommy showed up when the few drunks who worked double shifts in the factories stayed, and she had to keep her on duty, those nights were devoted to card games, chess and talks. And Rosalyn was looking forward to it. 

Thomas turned out to be a better card player than his brother Arthur, but not better than John, who turned out to be the best poker opponent she found in two years, yet they could play a game of chess with Tommy for hours while she serving customers late at night. 

_"_ _So,_ _we make it more interesting. You're a gambling man after all." She shook the folding chess board when she finished putting away the money for the last client who arrive._

_"How much do you offer?" She smiled at him amused "ten shillings?" He lit a cigarette and accepted with a movement of his head._

_"What if we make it more interesting?" he asked her, taking her rook, she grimaced. "I hear you"_

_"For each piece that I take from you I will ask you a question that you will answer and vice versa" she moved her Bishop, looking at him in surprise "Very well I sound interesting, you move"_

_They moved theirs pieces a couple of times until she managed to take one of her pieces, he gave her a triumphant smile._

_"Why you moved here of all places why Small Heat" she wouldn't let her surprise show on her face, after all she had expected a more daring question from him._

_"I lived about eight months in London and it was exhausting, then I got a job in court and Leigh Anne decided to move here with the war already ending ... we looked for more accessible options_ _and, in the_ _end,_ _we stayed in Roger's apartment that is here very conveniently” he glared at her._

_"That's not the_ _answer_ _what I asking for, you little cheater" she laughed at him moving her piece, taking a piece from him_

_"How many times do you consume opium?" She snatched the cigarette from his fingers, well if he wasn't going to be_ _nosy,_ _she did._

_"A lot" He took out another cigarette from his cigarette case._

_"You're not even going to deny it" He shrugged "Not why I would" she puffed on her cigarette "How did you notice?"_

_"You smell like opium" he raised an eyebrow "How ...?"_

_"My father smoked a lot when he was still working, everything in him smelled intoxicating and sweet, it is not good it will never be, it only leads you to believe that if ... I remember him haggard and thin" she moved a piece immersed in her memories._

_"I'm sorry" he said to her_

_"Why?"_

_"For your father"_

_"He is not dead" she laughed out loud "He left him years ago and now he is a fat man who lives for his grandchildren and wants to be a farmer"_

_She smiled at him, waiting for him to play, they continued playing in silence, movement after movement until she said goodbye to her Tower._

_When the game and her shift ended, he takes_ _her to her apartment as usual, the days were getting colder as the winter start to came, when they reached her_ _apartment,_ _she took his hand before he turned to go to his car._

_"Tommy, if you have trouble sleeping or any other problem, whatever, you can call me and we'll figure it out ... and if you don't do it, that's fine," she murmured, grabbing a blank sheet of her little diary and scrawling her number, handing it to him, walked to her apartment blushing but before closing "I'm idiot I would capable change my number because I'm moving" she began to ramble until he gently took her arm and she felt her blush reach her chest._

_"Are you moving?" She felt her skin stand on end, his big but gentle hand on her arm, the faint heat of his body and his eyes like ice piercing her soul._

_"Yes ... on Keeley St." his hand was still on her arm. "Leigh Anne will move near Chinatown"_

_"You will leave your friend" she leaned against the wall with a sigh._

_"Yes ... this department belongs to my brother and I only make it easier for him to control me by staying here, also Leigh Anne needs a place where you know... work in private and peace I guess" he folded the piece of paper with his number in his pocket where he kept his watch._

_"Let me know when you move in and I'll send some of the guys over to help you"_

* * *

Weeks passed before she moved out of Roger's apartment; her mother had sent two suitcases that had been mailed to her, when she checked it with the curious eyes of Leigh Anne behind her, she sighed when she found an exuberant amount of clothing among dresses, skirts, camisoles and blouse of all designs, colours and cloth that she enjoyed wearing; bags, hats and shoes even took the trouble to pack a small jewellery box with different jewellery, earrings, bracelets, pendants, hair pins. 

"Fuck your mother still thinks we live in London because if we go out with any of these things" she said trying on an emerald ring "I already feel the stabbing in the side of any bandit to steal these" she giggled, looking at the clothes that her mother had sent her. 

"I've seen several women wearing this kind of fancy stuff when we were out dancing with Margarite," she snatched the Jewlery from Poppy. "Too fancy for Small Heat... cool my mom just gave me more stuff to pack" she started to put the clothes together. 

"You think she sent this to you because the owner of the building told your brother that we are leaving?" Poppy asked, rummaging through another suitcase. 

"I don't know, but expensive gifts and just a note With Love Mamma sounds something my mother would do to hold me back or do something I don't want to do" Leigh Anne snorted "How lucky! My mother would have beaten me to death if I had Denied an order from her, not to mention what she would have done if she had caught me when I escaped. ” 

Rosalyn blushed, although Leigh Anne had been her friend since she was 15 years old, it was still difficult not to notice the difference in her education and childhood, while Rosalyn spent part of her childhood in a girls' school in New York, with her loving parents and 3 meals at days, Leigh Anne learned to read and write precariously from her great-aunt at night, worked on her family's cotton crops from dawn to dusk, which left her skin toasted, and her food depended on how the agricultural production was going. 

Her ramblings were interrupted by Poppy's laugh, who turned to show her a Philippine bag. 

"Your mother does think that you are enjoying your stay here just look at all this lingerie" Leigh Anne laughed showing her the robes, camisoles and brassiere's that her mother sent her, she felt her face burn, of course her mother would send lingerie, what the last thing her grandmother told her was her mother had organized all her friends from church to pray that she would go back home or find a husband what will happen first, her mother had said, shit she was so fucking angry that even her frivolous and serious grandmother could calm her down. 

"Keep that, I ask you kindly" 

"Oh, come on Rosie can use some of this, look what a beautiful lace" she showed her a delicate pink nightgown with a pronounced V neckline that would be scandalous if it were not for the lace details that bordered it. 

"Fuck it's beautiful fuck its mom ... you can keep it if you want, I don't see much use on me" she pointed to the rest of the clothes.

"I think you will use it" 

"What are you talking about, silly" Leigh Anne looked at her with a raised eyebrow 

"Come on Rose, this is too elegant for my clients and you will deny me that nothing is happening between you and Thomas Shelby ... I don't like him, but he must have something so you don't send him to hell" 

She shook her head "Nothing happens and who told you that?" 

"The washerwomen know everything Rosalyn here, in New York and in China if you want to know something, the washerwomen will know it" 

"Is that what you do when you are not working you sit down to clean the sheets listening to gossip" she tried to change the subject, grabbed her cat Athos who had gotten into an empty suitcase. 

"Don't try to change the subject girl, but Rosie" she pointed to her own eye "Be careful yes, we didn't go out of that crap in Bronx to came here and find the same shit, but with another accent" 

“Now you're complaining about the gangster life, Poppy? It seemed to dominate it well in the Bronx no one handled the information between gangs that you "she joked 

"Oh Baby! Those golden times, I left everything for you and that's how you pay me "she pouted" The only thing I hope is that the talent for fucking well is from the family because if that's the case, darling "she made a chef kiss gesture laughing, but Rosalyn tensed, gripping Athos's fur tighter than was necessary to make the feline meow in complaint. 

"Have you fucked him?" Leigh looked at her suggestively. 

"Would you mind?" she shrugged slightly. _Fuck it would bother her_. 

Leigh Anne gave a little laugh "I fucked her brother, I don't remember... the older guy’s name, but it was a very good time" 

"Oh Arthur, he is very bad at poker" she said thoughtfully.

"But very good with his fingers" Leigh Anne raised two of her fingers in a suggestive gesture and she grimaced in disgust throwing a blouse over her face "Please Stop it! I see his face practically daily I don't need that information and remember that when I see it” Leigh Anne laughed out loud. 

"Very prudish! now serious matters" she looked at her smiling. 

"First when you move out and second what will we do for the holidays? At last this horrible year ends, the fucking war is over and I plan to get drunk to oblivion, but not before stealing their commissions from all those sub-officers” Rosalyn shook her head. 

"Mrs. Anderson told me that I can move in these days, but I prefer to fix the horrible tapestry and wait for the London order bed" Leigh Anne looked at her wrongly. 

"No way, you're taking the bed Rosie I can't" she raised her hand to stop her 

"Poppy is fine, the rent is cheaper than I planned and I decided to use some of the money that my father still sends me to buy a bed and a refrigerator" 

* * *

Tommy took out a box of matches to light one of the lamps in Rosalyn's apartment, looking at the place, comfortable, small, but comfortable; He could see the bed with a large headboard from its place in the makeshift kitchen that seemed be the the living room too, looking at the loveseat leaning against the wall. 

Rosalyn Hale was a woman of fine taste for the ornaments and details in her home, the velvet and silk curtains, cotton sheets, the porcelain tea set, she did not claim too many other things of value, other than an elegant simple jeweller, small furniture, but good quality. She turned out to be quite naive; He did not expect to find her apartment open when he arrived after closing the gambling shop, less without her presence or the Blinder he sends to help her move her things 

Nor was it in his plans to check her things, but he couldn't help but look at the pile of documents on the dining room table, running his hand to feel the texture of the elegant dresses that were lying in front of the dresser, the shoes stacked in the corner, the jewellery she kept in a small silver jeweller on her vanity, Jewlery she didn't wear, pearl and zircon earrings, shiny silver and gold bracelets, elaborate rings that a woman like her would wear on a daily if she was more vain, nothing like Jewlery that she always wore, nothing of the fine gold necklace with a simple gold circle as pendant, nor the discreet earrings. 

This is what made Rosalyn what she was, the expensive dresses thrown to wear a simple skirt and a shirt, the jewels kept unused, the expensive perfume on the vanity table and the striking lipstick with which he had seen her at the train station, mounds of papers, pens and ink, wax, a box with law books, a record player and a stack of discs of different music genres. 

His attention was drawn to the picture frames above the fireplace, one of them a family of 6, a couple, three men, and a young Rosalyn, the second being a smaller version of the larger photo frame, with a simple old black and white photograph of a young woman, evidently related to Rosalyn, had the same face shape as Rosalyn, a heart-shaped face with high cheekbones, and her hair fell into the same curls as hers, and her eyes, big cat-like eyes with a sad look that he hadn't seen in Rosalyn's playful and happy eyes and hoped never to see him. 

_Well, maybe I underestimated her_ , he thought when in one of the drawers of her dresser he found a loaded Colt revolver and a box of ammunition, He left the gun in its place and saw her enter with a grocery’s basket in her hand, kicking the door to close it, when she saw him let out a small scream. 

“Holly baby Jesus Thomas! What the fuck are you doing here!” She lowered the basket on the floor clutching her chest in fright. 

"It was not my intention to scare you, I told you that I would come to help" 

"Yes, but as you sent someone, I thought that was the only thing you meant" he snorted. "I'm glad to came; I see that this place is still a disaster" she rolled her eyes. 

"I know, but at least I already have a bed, how did you get in?" she moved the basket to the kitchen table. 

"You left the door open, a very dangerous habit for this place" she blushed. 

"This definitely enters your top 3 of the most invasive moments you have done to me" she saw the shadow of a small smile. 

"Oh yeah? What are the other two?” 

"Entering my new apartment without an invitation is a huge competition against the fact of you calling me in the middle of the night" she bit her lip holding her laughter when seeing his confused expression, she had bet well when she imagine that he called her drugged some nights ago. 

"What the fuck are you talking about I didn't call you in the middle of the night" 

"Yes, yes you did" 

"It can't do that, I never call you Rosalyn ..." he closed his mouth abruptly... unless, he cursed internally, he couldn't have done that, he considered her offer to call her, but it was one in the early morning, and he was fuck eager to gets high, he wanted to sleep without listening to the spikes and knocks behind the walls, stop smelling the mud and feel the claustrophobia of being once more in the tunnels of France.

He tries to remember if he call her, there was a possibility. He hadn't brought the phone to his room before repenting and getting high? With the little note with her number on the side of his pipe. 

He did not remember anything more than the hangover that always left him when he smoked, he put aside the foggy dreams and his thoughts they’d detached from his consciousness, but he did not remember anything, nothing more than the recurring dream that he had since they started to meet each other. The dream to be next to her, she was lying in a white dress standing out from all the mist and mud, her hair on fire lit by the small oil lamps they used in the tunnels, she looked like an angel among all the darkness, the noise of the peaks and the sound of the men working, shooting and die in that bloody tunnels are muted, he remembered her body against his, the mud don't littered her, her hand was on his chest making soft and fond movement, her painted lips moving in words he did not remember, he could hear her voice but he can't recognize what she say it but with her on his side he can avoid the clastrophobic feels. 

"So, your invitation to see your new competition horse ... shall I discard it?" She cut her thoughts; she was pulling a few groceries from the basket. 

He approached her helping her to arrange her things "Fuck what did I tell you?" He speak to her in a low voice, she started laughing, shaking her head. 

"I will not tell you anything, it will be my little secret between the drugged Thomas and me" she smiled at him and he did not avoid noticing the way in which walking among furniture and places, they touched each other subtly, something that did not happen before, he respected her space and did not returned to physical contact after the kiss a few weeks ago at the door of her brother's apartment. 

He did not insist on the subject anymore, he would find another moment to press her enough to get the truth out of her, although whatever he was told by drugged seemed to be a good thing because her attitude towards him had changed, so he decided to continue to order her stuff. After a couple of hours, she made some sandwiches with what was in the grocery’s basket she brought, and when he finished moving the furniture as she liked, she went to the kitchen to serve them both wine in mugs. 

"Leigh Anne kept the glasses" she said blushing handing him the mug, he just dropped next to her on the sofa. 

He looked at her while drinking the wine, her hair is tied in a high knot held by some hair pin’s, but some strands were coming out and her hair was sticking to her neck with sweat, her face was flushed from the effort and at some point she took off her shoes and rolled up the sleeves of the light blue shirt she was wearing, he had also taken off his coat and vest and she looked at him blushing feeling that seeing him alone with his shirt and suspenders was terribly intimate. 

"Would you mind if I put on some music" she accepted and went to put on some soft jazz that Marcus had given her a few years ago, when the soft rhythm filled the small apartment, he stood in front of her and offered her his hand to dance. 

"Are you trying to impress me?" 

"Usually yes." He smiled at her as she accepted his hand, took her wine cup from her other hand, and set it on the fireplace counter. 

"So, you know how to dance Jazz?" she asked putting her hand on his shoulder and he took his other hand around her waist, but did not approach her as she expected or wanted. 

He was surprised by how small she really was and how thin, soft and warm she was under his big hands, hard to imagine using the hidden revolver in the dresser. He couldn't help but feel a certain charm from the way she stood up on her toes to reach him as he guided her to the rhythm of the soft music, his hand around the curve of her waist, her small hand between hims, he felt as if he was destined to be there, that hers hand was designed to fit between hims, that having her this close made him forget what was happening around their, with her warmth and the sweet smell of her perfume, her smiling faces , her cheeks red from the heat of the fireplace, the wine and he hoped it was because of his proximity too, her eyes sparkling and happy not like the woman in the photograph, He notice for the first time the soft freckles on her cheeks and nose, the little mole on her right cheek. 

She released his hand from hers when the music changed to another, she was glad that Marcus had an unusual taste for slow music, she circled his neck getting closer than strictly taught by her dance tutor, but if that simple gestured make he looked at her that way she would do it more often. She felt drunker than a cup of wine would really make her, but the warmth of his hand on her waist, the smell of her cologne and the way he looked at her, she wishes he couldn't feel the derailed pounding of her heart. 

"Dance very well Mr. Shelby" She said quietly, Tommy pulled her a little more to him and she rested her head on his shoulder, because she couldn't hold his gaze any longer without feeling dizzy, the background music and the soft movement, she had not enjoyed something as simple as dancing with someone for a long time, she had not felt so comfortable and full since Charlie's death, after all She had not decided to move to other continent because she did not tolerate the idea of walking the same streets she had walked with her brother? Living in the same house with the idea that he wouldn't walk across the front porch on Sundays, with the dimpled smile and little Louis on his shoulders? 

Clinging to her brother's memory was less painful a thousand miles from the source of her memories, she preferred the dirty streets of Small Heat, the fucking British accent, the drunkards of The Garrison, than one day at home in New York and knowing that if she went out into the backyard finding a memorial by the name of who had been her dance partner at their parents' parties or with whom she went to watch baseball games, chased away her suitors and gave her first gun and taught to shoot. 

She felt Tommy's fingers on her face, drawing tears from her cheeks. "Hey, why are you crying, Ross?" she shook her head with a lump in her throat. 

"What did you call me?" She pulled away from him as she cleaned her face. She needed to put space between him and the sadness that choked her in the chest. She turned to grab the forgotten mug of wine drinking the contents at once, went to the kitchen to serve more, he looked at her in a way that made her feel like a girl who had been caught wearing her mother's makeup. 

"Ross, does it bother you?" she shook her head giving him a small smile "I like no one had called me that before" 

He crossed the room and pulled her close with his arms around her waist and that made her feel small when he lifted her chin so that their eyes met, apparently ready to ask why she was crying, but instead he felt her hands gripping his shirt in fists, and how she stood up on her toes, he could feel her breath on his face, her perfume intoxicated him, his hand tightened the curve of her waist but as quickly as the moment was created it's broke with the frantic knock on the door that made Rosalyn jump apart. 

"Baby Rosie! open the fucking door, your fucking cat followed me to my house" Leigh Anne's voice was heard from the other side of the door, Rosalyn walked away from him putting her shoes on again and try to fixing her hair, he rubbed his hand through his face trying to wake up, she gave him his vest and coat, while she went to open her friend. 

When she opened to Leigh Anne who was holding Athos with a not friendly face, she entered without worrying about the fact that Rosalyn had tried to cover the room with her body, Leigh Anne turned around looking at the place and throwing her bag on the table next to the door and dropping the cat who ran to the other room. 

Leigh Anne stopped when her gaze fell on him, and if he hadn't been staring at her so intently, he wouldn't have noticed the withering look she sent him, but as quickly as the gesture came, she released a slight Oh! Turning to Rosalyn who was looking at them both 

"Mr. Shelby, what are you doing here?" she asked with a tight smile. 

"Poppy he came to help me but I'm afraid I've already taken a lot of your time Mr. Shelby" Rosalyn's face was flushed "Let me walk you to the door" he nodded and Leigh Anne snorted 

"I'm sure he knows where the exit is" 

"Leigh Anne! Behave yourself ”Rosalyn hissed, but instead the woman took the cup that was his taking the content without taking her dark eyes off his face, he put on his flat cap as he walked past her following Ross out the door, going down the narrow stairs of the building.

When they got to his car, she smiled at him as she hugged herself from the cold of the street.

"Thanks for your companionship Tommy"

"Thursday after you leave  court, I will come for you"

"Pardon? What are you talking about ”he put his hands in his pocket“ You asked me if you should discard the invitation to see my new horse and no, I will come by on Thursday and we will go and pick it up” he replied, getting into his car.

"Ok accepted it only if you show up with a bottle of wine huh?" He gave a weak laugh as he started the car and headed toward Watery Lane. She climbed the steps two at a time, and when she opened her door, she found Leigh Anne sitting in the middle of the sofa, stroking dramatically the fluffy fur of Athos with an eyebrow raised.

"Do not start bitch"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any kind of comments are violently welcomen


	3. Night Changes

Rosalyn checked her correspondence while cooking a late lunch, but she still had 4 hours to spare even before she had to go to the Pub, she sighed with fatigue, work was getting too heavy and her sleep hours seemed not enough and her body was claiming it.

At least with Harry was more flexible than in court, her boss made her stay long after her stipulated hours but she had managed to get a little information from the receptionist, who told her that Mr. Emmerson's litigation had gotten another job and if the stars lining up and she had a bit of luck capable of giving her his position and with that she would no longer go to court only three days but she should reduce her shifts at The Garrison that as things were going, they were becoming more difficult to handle the abundant clientele being only Harry and her behind the bar. 

She put a spoonful of the stew in her mouth, looking at the letters from her father and her grandmother had sent her, her grandmother had fulfilled the favor she asked by sending her the New York newspapers to keep informed of some of the activities of her brothers. 

Opening the newspaper, she remembered the warning Leigh Anne had given her about Tommy, her anger at finding him in her apartment alone a few days ago quickly turned to concern that something bad could happen to her physically or emotionally. She had denied that something had happened, of course she avoided commenting that something had almost happened, she wanted to hit the table remembering that he almost kissed him, that it was not normal for her to feel this way about a man, it made her want things that she had never wanted before and how everything around they disappear, she considered herself a naturally selfish person, but all she could think about with Tommy was to help him, to carry the pain he was carrying, to be a source of distraction, take his hand and sharing something more than a friendship. 

But if she was hindsight, she had never felt the desire or need to want to be with a person the way she wanted with Thomas Shelby, after all, she never had a relationship with anyone other than Mickey, but that would be very naive. Comparing the farce of her relationship with Mickey as she wished to have it with Thomas, her relationship with Mickey couldn't even count as one, after all he had been her best friend until now and if she had agreed to help him pretend they were in a relationship for him sake and she would continue to pretend, but like all her wishes and perspective along with Mickey's were changed when war broke out. 

She thought about calling him, but immediately dismissed the idea, her oldest friend had always been a machine to create chaos, motivated by his impending impulsiveness and lack of awareness, she couldn't imagine what Mickey would be capable of if she started to tell him what was happening in her love life, and all the possibilities she thought about, none were a good or peaceful outcome. 

As she checked the social section, the haze hit her. What the fuck would she do for the holidays? Thanksgiving was approaching, and although there was no point celebrating it without her family and in a place where it was not celebrated, she could convince Leigh Anne to go to London and not calculate the expense and go to dinner at a luxury restaurant in London. But she had no idea what she would really do on Christmas or New Years, she thought about accepting Margarite's offer and celebrating with her new Jewish husband, Hanukkah, but she had her doubts, Margarite was at least one of the few women in her family but she found it quite out of place to meddle with her first holidays with her husband. 

Her thoughts were cut off when she saw the elegant little cream envelope with the mint-coloured wax that her mother used, she put the newspaper over the table and began to look at the envelope, tearing it without much ceremony. 

She was surprised to see that her brother Roger and his sister-in-law Tanya took the trouble to invite her to their Thanksgiving party, it was an elegant invitation that was expected of his new charge as CEO of the family's export companies, to impress his new interests clients, business partners, politicians, commissioners, governors and parliamentarians, policemen who could bribe their illegal exports and imports, especially now with the ridiculous amendment that regulates alcohol sales in the USA, her brother wanted to show off his wealth and status with the other gang leaders in upstate New York, and he had no doubt that he would also invite his contacts in Detroit and Chicago, not to mention his business partners in New Orleans, Florida and Oregon. 

She thought of calling her father or grandmother to ask about the family, business, but she did not want to cry, so she preferred to call Roxanne and ask how her nephews Louis and Abigail were doing, but on the fifth ring of the phone the call was cut off and no longer she tried. 

She reminded herself that she was here of her own choosing, but her heart sank at the thought of her family, that this was the first year that they would spend the anniversary of Charlie's death with Roger and Marcus back home, but not she, she did not come back. 

She could not bear the idea of a party in memory of her brother, less with the tense situation with Roger and his mother. 

At the bottom of the envelope she found a small photograph of her nephews in what she hoped were their new school uniforms, with a short note "We miss you Auntie Rosie, with love Henry and Hazel" she smiled at the uneven handwriting and the painted hearts. 

She sighed, did not doubt that this was just her sister-in-law's idea, but the gesture itself warmed her chest, after all, it came from a large, loving and certainly nosy family and although it was her decision to walk away knowing that it was not She was being excluded, it made her feel loved, with that new wave of emotion she prepared for her turn at the Pub. 

When she was arriving at The Garrison, she felt someone behind her, turning, she found herself face to face with Freddie Thorne, she did not hide her grimace when she saw him and he just smiled petulantly at her. 

"What do you want Freddie?" Freddie was beside her with his hand in his pockets in time with her hurried steps. 

"You know Rosalyn, when I met you, I thought you were a smart woman who ended up in this junk dump due to strange circumstances." 

She snorted, Freddie Thorne was the first post-war man she met from Small Heat and from the beginning it fell like a kick in the liver and she didn't doubt he felt the same way about her, but a healthy mutual respect developed between them or at least she believed that; after all, he was the first man who hadn't tried to flirt, buy or pressure her to get between her thighs, he had frankly appeared on a Thursday night and they talked about politics, a plan clearly leaning towards communism, something that she naturally differed . 

Freddie had marked her as someone to debate with and she would never deny a friendly discussion, but he was always looking for a long and not calm imposing posture, after a few drinks he had admitted that he considered her person as someone worthy of admiration, she had obtained a university degree in a profession in which many women were not interested and that the economic situation of her family had not given her an erroneous view of the reality of other people, but that, as a result of an immigrant family, she believed in the constant and hard effort of daily work and did not share Freddie's actions and his way of imposing his philosophy. 

"I've heard some pretty disappointing gossip dear Rosalyn" 

She snorted in response "Now what are you talking about?" Freddie looked at her with his long face and his hair falling over his eyes, she did not doubt that he came from other speeches to encourage the workers of the few factories where he got work to take him on a strike organized by him.

"They told me you're apparently Thomas Shelby's new favorite pet." They were two blocks from the Pub, but the mocking words made her stop suddenly.

"What did you call me?" Freddie smiled at him "It's what the gossip says"

"You'll lose your tongue if you call me a pet again," he hissed, causing Freddie to raise his hands in surrender.

"Don't take it out on me, Bella Rosalyn, I just think that a woman like you shouldn't be with a man like him"

"That's none of your fucking business, Freddie!"

“I only want the best for you, and it's my duty as someone who grew up and knows Thomas Fucking Shelby, to warn you that maybe it's all that gypsy blood in his veins or just that he's an arrogant bastard — but he's a thief and swindler who seeks to have what he obviously does not deserve — and you are only to him the new shiny and attractive thing in this fucking place and when the new cute little thing steps foot in this shitty place, he will not hesitate to change you and go behind of that” she raised an eyebrow.

"Watch out Freddie! You don't want the gypsy swindler of Thomas fucking Shelby to find out that you're fucking his little sister" Freddie's smile froze

"Maybe we all have some inner cheeky thief who wants what we don't deserve" went on her way. 

She saw his frown and his hand that flew to grasp her arm with force ready to unleash a threat, apparently the soldier's mould and posture is something difficult to blur once they are reintegrated into civil life, Rosalyn reflected. 

But before Freddie comes up with something to scare her, she released her grip and snapped at him in the face with her words. "But he will not find out from me unlike you Freddie I am not interested in the fucking affairs of others" 

She hoped their meeting would end there, but it didn't. Freddie followed her until she entered the Pub, Harry smiled at her from the bar, noticing Freddie behind her, laughing at her grimace, she ran through the premises quickly to get an idea of how many customers there were, noticing that in the small secluded room of the Pub were the three Shelby brothers. 

She felt Freddie's arms around her shoulders. "You won't mind me seeing us together." She sighed, only ignoring Freddie and the gazes on her. As soon as she got behind the bar, he heard the knock on the small window of the pub's private room, staring at Thomas in his flat cap with the gleam of blades cooked in the material. 

"Rosalyn a bottle of Whiskey" she nodded, but she was still in a bad mood, and she would stay that way until Freddie's smug smile was erased with a punch, when she handed Tommy the bottle while he was talking to another man who also wore a cap. 

"Rosalyn you have a call on the line" Harry warned her pointing to the phone, she was surprised her parents weren't going to call her unless it was at night, except her brothers and her friends had only the number of her apartment, Harry hand her the phone while carrying the phone by her side. 

"Rosalyn Hale speaking" She said feeling her brow furrow. 

"Hey sweetheart I had an interesting dream about you" 

"Mickey?" 

"Who else did you expect, sweet Rosie" Mickey's shrill laugh rang out loud and clear from the phone receiver as she felt the colour drop from her face, she must have put on a strange face as Freddie shot her a concerned look. 

* * *

He saw her coming down the steps of the small but picturesque court building, when she saw him, she smiled kindly saying goodbye to a woman who was coming down next to her, she looked dazzling with the purple skirt to the ankles and the cashmere blouse and a simple coat flannel. 

"Good afternoon Rosalyn" 

"Good afternoon to you too Thomas, won't you call me Ross?" She held onto her purse as she got into her car 

"I prefer to leave that nickname between the two of us" She blushed, but did not say anything else about it, just the two of them inside the small cabin of the car soon her perfume filled the place, he offered her a cigarette and she accepted it quickly. 

"Oh my God thank you, I needed it the day was terribly long why people start court cases so close to the holidays?" she lamented taking a long drag on her cigarette. 

He snorted, but at the mention of the holidays, he remembered that Arthur had told him that Polly had invited her to spend the parties with them. 

"What are your plans for Christmas Eve Ross?" She grinned at the nickname 

"I have no idea." She rubbed her forehead with her free hand. 

"I know that Polly has invited you to spend it with her therefore with us 

"Oh no! Tommy there's no way I'm intruding on a family celebration like that, after everything that happened this year, all the Shelby’s should spend the first Christmas after the war together. " 

“Nonsense ... after everything you have done for my family while my brother and I were in France, spending Christmas in a house full of gypsies, Polly's food, Ada's slights and Arthur very drunk must be the worst way to thank you” she laughed. 

"Well Polly is a very good cook, if it weren't for her my diet would only be based on stew, Leigh Anne's fried chicken and cakes ... and Arthur drunk I think it's my daily routine" she smiled at him. "But seriously, Tommy, I don't want to bother you. Your family should pass it between you" 

"And you? You do not deserve to spend it with someone after all I think the other night was the first time, I saw you communicating with a relative of yours "she snorted 

"Mickey is not a relative, he is a nuisance "he smiled at her overreacted grimace, and she He pondered Mickey's words, _it would really wrong to show him that you are interested in him, after all you didn't come here to escape the yoke of your family?_

Her gaze was fixed on the country road, she had never been to this part of the country, but she had never been among her plans to take a walk with an English gangster, she smiled to herself remembering the talk with Mickey 

_Rosalyn nobody but you_ _deserve_ _to finally have a healthy and normal relationship, if it is with a not very safe and normal person are details._

"How someone decides to buy a horse for racing" 

"I need an incentive for gambling" he replied without taking his eyes off the road. 

"And who will train him?" 

"Myself of course" she looked at him in surprise as he walked further into the field away from the road. "Wow! Those hidden talents Mr. Shelby” she smiled broadly at him, when she smiled like that her eyes narrowed and with flushed cheeks, she looked lovely. 

"I don't see her as a person who enjoys riding very much" and she denied 

"Unfortunately no, my father is very fond of them, but I unfortunately have a fear of horses" she adjusted her hair as she spoke. 

"Why?" 

"I have to say it's all my brother Marcus's fault, he thought it was nice to scare the horse I was learning with and he threw me into the air, it was horrible and I almost die but not as bad as the thrashing my father gave him when he found out" Tommy smiled 

Monaghan Boy was a great horse, with black fur and huge muscles that snorted loudly, Rosalyn was not lying when she said that she was terrified of them because she did not close in at any time while he inspected it, he found her looking the field. 

When he finished arranging for Curly to look for the horse, he noticed that she was not wearing her shoes, her feet bare as she reaching out to pick apples. 

"No stockings, that's outrageous even to you Miss Hale" she did turn and stick her tongue out at him childishly, raising a hand where she was wearing the pair of silk stockings. 

"Could you help me instead of giving me dress classes" she pointed to the apples with her hands on her hips, he approached her, wrapped his arms around her thighs and raised her, she let out a cry of surprise and supporting both hands by the trunk of the apple tree, but did not waste time picking up the apples. 

They ate the apples on the way to the car. "Then you have the horse as you will do to encourage betting" she took a small bottle of water from her bag and handed him. 

"I still have to plan it while I train Monaghan." He lit a cigarette. 

"My father used to say that betting men are superstitious, if he wanted the stakes to go up in major league games he spread the rumour that the Yankees batter's bat was blessed in a strange Cherokee ritual" she smiled "People went crazy at the idea of them win for a magic trick" Tommy looked at her thoughtfully 

"Not a bad idea" she nodded. 

"You must have heard about that girl in Chinatown that the washerwomen call a witch" he opened the car door for her. 

When they reached her apartment, she turned before entering, leaning on the car door. 

"Did you ever eat in Chinatown?" 

"Okay, this was the most unusual question you asked me, ruling out the day you asked me to read your palm" she laughed. 

"I am asking you seriously, because if you didn't think we could go to dinner next Friday after all I don't have a job in London the next weekend" she was speaking quickly again and her blush ran down her neck, he wondered how far it would go her blush, avoiding him gaze 

"I'll tell you that I haven't eaten there if it just meant that that's a rendezvous" she rolled her eyes 

"Fine" 

"Alright I'll pick you up at 19" She smiled at him in that way that made her abdomen heat up like he was having a shot of whiskey. 

"Get ready for the best oriental night you are going to have" she said, walking away towards her house. 

* * *

She had only spent three nights of that day of the walk with Thomas, she was exhausted, she had arrived from London on the last train to Birmingham, it was late at night and she only had the strength to take a bath and sleep hugging her cat, when the frantic pounding of her door alarmed her. 

Without hesitation she got up taking the revolver from the table next to her bed, walking slowly. 

"Who is?" She asked as she checked the ammunition in the revolver chamber. 

"It's me" she relaxed when she heard Tommy's voice and opened the door quickly, she made a sound of surprise when she saw him with his face beaten and stained with blood, whether or not he noticed the gun in her hand played down it, when she pulled him into her apartment. 

"Oh my God Tommy what happened to you?" 

"A small fight with the policemen" he did not give more explanations, but she did not need it, turning on the lamps in the small kitchen making him sit on a chair. 

"Stay still and take off your coat" she said, noticing the blood on the collar of his shirt, she took a bottle of whiskey from one of the kitchen shelves, holding out for him to drink while she went to get the medicine cabinet from the boudoir. 

When she returned he could notice her damp hair making it look dark and the dark blue satin and lace knee-length nightgown covered with a long robe, but it didn't do much to hide her figure, the curve of her waist, the outline of her hips, her pale legs, and the gentle swell of her breasts, that definitely distracted him more than the shot of whiskey. 

She treated him with the innate experience of caring for the wounds of her brothers, if the information they sent him about her was true, Rosalyn Hale was a more dangerous woman than he appeared, he took one more drink from the bottle looking at her trying to fit the fact that this naturally kind and well-mannered woman was the daughter of an American mobster of Russian descent, who handled a balanced amount of legal and illegal business, He tried to fit in all that information as she delicately ran the wet patch across his wounding face, fingers steady placing the ointment on the wound on your cheek. 

"It hasn't reached the eye so you don't need a suture." She kept running her hand over his injured ribs, and her knuckles splayed. 

And perhaps it was the drunken moment of a fight and whiskey or the fact that he was in the wee hours of the morning with the not-so-secretly obsessed woman at home in a not-so-innocent nightgown, which led him to run his hand down her face, because he wanted to, because her skin looked so smooth, and he couldn't help but notice that she had freckles on her shoulders and prominent clavicles when her robe slipped at some point while she was cleaning her wounds and he felt his fingers itch for touch her skin, to taste her but another feeling settled in him from the day he saw her barefoot in the middle of a field, he did not want only to have her physically, to discover the endlessness of the body and the beauty that this woman kept under her feminine clothes or defended firmly from a person who taught her how to break someone's wandering hand, he wanted more from her and that unnerved him. 

She looked at him with eyes like cats, her lips parted, resting her face on his hand. 

"Tommy, do you have a concussion?" she whispered to him and he smiled. 

"I think not" 

"Why did you come here?" 

"I don't know." She smiled at him, a smile that said she knew something he didn't and that disturbed him. 

"Alright bad boy how about we don't move to bed" 

She took him to her bed, took off his vest and shoes, laid him on the pillows "Don't fall asleep Tommy I have to bring you some medicine yet" she got up and he stared at the ceiling laying in her bed, everything smelled of her, he felt something hairy in his hand and saw a black cat on the bed looking at him bored. 

"Hello little ball of hair" the cat approached him, leaning his body at his side, with his face fixed on him with big yellow eyes, passing his hand over the soft fur of the cat feeling it purr before his caresses, he closed his eyes. 

"No no no Tommy please stay awake" Rosalyn lifted him from the nape sitting next to him "Take it all" she said passing him a glass, he did not refuse to swallow still stroking the cat. "I think you already met Athos" she said, but he no longer responded with the painkillers, the whiskey and the enveloping smell of Rosalyn around him gave up to sleep. 

He woke up scared, and his face hurt at the gesture he made, looking through the curtains noticing the sun coming through him, how much he had sleep? he moves his painful shoulder figure out that he not had nightmare or any dream at all, he turned around looking at the other side of the empty bed, he thought that Rosalyn could not sleep in his bed, but the sheets wrinkled and saggy pillows confirmed otherwise. 

He got up from the bed to find her already dressed in a woollen burgundy dress with a stiff skirt several fingers below her knee, her hair in a high bun so different from the lace and satin of her nightgown; she was turning her back on talking on the phone, while he listened to her speak, he put the suspenders and the vest back in place, noticing the bandage on his knuckles. 

"No Polly, it's not a problem" she turned to see him "Oh he's awake, I think I was right, it doesn't seem like he had a concussion" she smiled at him as she said goodbye to his aunt. 

"Good morning Mr. Shelby, you want breakfast? I still have fourty minutes to get to work" she said pointing to the clock in the kitchen. 

"Just tea please" his split lip ached as he watched her pulling out a kettle. 

"I do not have a great variety of tea I regret it, I usually drink more coffee but you will not leave here without trying my beignets" she served him a dessert with sugar and honey on it, took a bite and could not contain the moan of pleasure at the explosion of taste in his mouth. 

"Oh Lord this tasted very good" she gave him a smug gesture 

"Thank you I will ignore the tone of surprise and I will just take the compliment" he finished the dessert while she served him tea in the same cup that weeks ago, they had drunk wine in. 

"Rosalyn" he started when he finished his tea and other beignets, but she raised a hand to silence him. 

"No need Thomas." She fixed her raincoat. 

"I guess not" He insist "What do you mean?" 

"You seem to have a lot of experience, after all I have investigated you Rosalyn" 

"Very well I expected a thanks not an interrogation, Shelby" she replied defensively. 

"Thanks for helping me, but that doesn't mean that you have experience healing wounds, did your brothers end up the same or worse than me in their street fights or not Ross? She sighed. 

“I don't know what you're talking about, I just can't know how to heal wounds without you assuming what? What do you assume Thomas? " 

"I'm sure I'm talking to the daughter of the mobster Gregorovitch Hale" she crossed her arms "I got a fairly long file about your father, crimes like extortion, fraud, murders, arson, bribery of judges, politicians; had several charges " 

"Rumours" She interrupted him "They are all rumours, nothing of that could be proven" 

"You deny that your father was being investigated” 

"No, but they did not investigate him for any of that, all the cases were dismissed for lack of evidence, your informant was wrong, my father was never sentenced for any of that" 

"Then why?" 

"Tax evasion, my father was sentenced to a fine of seven hundred and fifty dollars and 35 hours of community service for evading taxes to the state of Washington for two farms" she shrugged her shoulders downplaying it "He was never caught for what you quoted" 

"We are leaving now or do you want to continue questioning my family's business" she opened the door while smiling arrogantly at him. 

When he dropped her off at the train station, she leaned out of the car window. 

"So, will we go out on Friday or you're too scared of the little daughter of a mobster?" 

"I Should? You seem to be a dangerous petit woman” she let out a laugh. 

"Well you're a gambling man, you should bet and risk seeing how the night will end" she adjusted her bag giving him a playful look. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any kind of comments are violently welcomen

**Author's Note:**

> Any comments, grammatical correction, or love/hate, encouraging or constructive feedback are violently welcome!!
> 
> XOXO, boring girl


End file.
